


The Chanukah Skeleton

by plaguecraft



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Chanukah Fic, F/F, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 02:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13020873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaguecraft/pseuds/plaguecraft
Summary: Harley decides she needs to celebrate the spirit of Chanukah in an unconventional way, and Pamela is dragged along for the ride.





	The Chanukah Skeleton

**Author's Note:**

> This came about thanks to a prompt request I got forever ago on tumblr to write 'anything where Harley is incredibly Jewish'. That prompt has already been filled, but it got me started on this Chanukah fic which I've rewritten three times and am now posting that it's seasonally appropriate.

Stepping through the door to their apartment, Pamela was confronted with Harley sitting in the centre of a small toy explosion, with her Halloween costume mysteriously slung over the back of the couch. How the “sexy skeleton” costume, complete with sparkly gold bowler hat and bowtie connected to the mess of toys strewn everywhere and her girlfriend frantically trying to smoosh an overstuffed purple bear into some mangled wrapping paper was something only Harley could answer. And Pamela was half-tempted to leave happily answer free.

Instead she stepped further inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. Harley whipped her head around, a wide grin breaking out over her face as she saw her.

“Heya Red, can you give me a hand with this?” She held up the lumpy mass of wrapping paper and the gently wilting teddy bear. “I think I messed up somehow.”

“I’m sorry love but I don’t think anyone can save that.” Pamela gestured at the unfortunate mess in Harleys hands.

“Oh.”

“Mmm. By the way, Harley, did you rob a toy store again?” Pamela asked, resting one hip against the wall as she waved a hand at the general fun-time chaos in front of her.

“Oh, no. Well, actually yeah – but it’s for a good cause!”

“A good cause? I don’t think your hyenas chew toy fund counts toward charity tax breaks, sweet pea.”

Harley gave an exaggerated frown and lobbed the purple teddy bear at Pamela’s head, which she caught, laughing. “That’s not it, well, they already stole one of the big bunny’s, but this is _important_.”

“Okay, so what is it then?”

“It’s Chanukah.” When Pamela just lifted her eyebrows in confusion at Harley’s statement, she continued. “There’s a lot of poor kids, poor Jewish kids – and I double checked with some social workers records and everythin’ – and they don’t get nothing this time of year. So, I’m going to fix it!”

Pamela just blinked slowly, taking it all in, as Harley threw her arms up, pigtails bouncing merrily. She had to give her that she knew how to announce a plan in an adorably half-way convincing manner.

“So, let me get this right: you broke into some social workers office, raided their files, and then robbed a toy store. So that you can somehow make things better with a… sexy skeleton costume?” She said slowly, watching the enthusiasm visibly drain out of Harley.

“That’s not exactly…”

“This is ridiculous, you know that, right?” She crossed her arms, and Harleys face hardened, jutting her chin out impishly.

“Look, Red, I know you won’t get what being poor and Jewish is like, but I do. And it sucks. Those kids already have to go without, and when they get back to school, chances are they’re gonna have to put up with other kids giving ‘em shit about how they didn’t get anything because ‘Santa doesn’t care about Jews’ and all sorts of other nasty things.” She said, hands curled into fists in her lap. “So, you can help me, or I can keep doing this by myself, but either way I’m still going to do this.”

Pamela sighed, shaking her head. Carefully, she navigated the toy minefield, and sank down next to Harley, bundling her up in a tight embrace. “You’re sweeter than anyone in this city deserves.”

“You’re just saying that to stop me being mad at you.” Harley muttered into a cloud of red hair and Pamela laughed.

“Maybe so. Now, would woven together peonies work as wrapping for these? Because I don’t think we’re going to be able to salvage any of this paper.”

*

Moving through and above the frozen streets of Gotham, Pamela glanced at Harley and once again wondered how she was not freezing herself. Pamela had bundled herself up appropriately against the winter chill, but Harley was wearing nothing but her ridiculous Halloween costume. What she was now calling her ‘Chanukah Skeleton’ costume. _Ludicrous_. But Pamela loved her, so she tolerated her flights of fancy with mild exasperation.

It was, after all, the price one had to pay for affairs of the heart.

So, she followed Harley in her gaudy black, glitter, and bone outfit across the city, hauling one bag filled with toys while Harley carried another sack. Filled with God only knew what, because Harley certainly wasn’t telling her beyond some cryptic comment about ‘ _tzedakah_ ’, whatever that meant. It was Harley. She had her reasons, whether they were apparent to anyone else was entirely beside the point. Pamela was sure that whatever happened at least it’d be interesting.

And at least the view from back here was pleasant, anyway.

“Hey, this is the first place.” Harley called back over her shoulder, starting to lower herself into the window of a ratty upper level apartment. Pamela wrinkled her nose at it all.

“This place isn’t fit to take a shit in Harley, let alone raise a child.”

“Wow, Pam-a-lamb, didn’t know you had that kinda crudeness in you. But right now, we’re practicing silence, so we can bring wonderment into poor children’s lives, okay?” Harley flashed her a wide smile and a thumbs-up before disappearing into the yawning darkness of the open window. Pamela sighed and followed.

The apartment had a pervasive, lingering smell of dry rot and ancient cigarette smoke. Pamela longed for more light than just the sickly orange glow through the slatted blinds to show her where to put her feet. Harley seemed to have no such qualms, charging ahead, silent and sure. Pamela wasn’t entirely sure whether she should murder her or drag her home for a more appropriate holiday celebration. At least, what she thought was more appropriate, anyway.

Quietly debating murder at least distracted her from her surroundings.

“Okay, you put those presents I showed you in the closet and leave a note under the Chanukkiah for the family to find. I’m going to the kitchen.” Harley whispered into her ear before pulling away, stepping fast and silent.

“Wait, what – “

Harley cut her off with an exaggerated shushing motion, backing away still, toes pointed. Somehow not banging the overstuffed sack on anything as she went. Pamela shook her head and moved to do her part. It was simple enough, though not tripping over anything in the dark, cluttered little living room was harder. As was writing a legible note by the dull glow from the windows. The things Harley convinced her to do.

Before leaving she quickly revived the little maidenhair fern next to the Chanukkiah, and added an addendum to the note to give it more water. Feeling that her good deed had been done for the day, she scooted back on out to meet up with Harley. Who promptly dragged her on to the next house.

Pamela just hoped she was going to get a _really_ great present out of this.

The next few houses went by smoothly, in and out with no issues. It was almost boring. But then again, Pamela thought as she stretched out her spine after putting the designated presents in the latest closet, it just meant they’d be home all the sooner. Because she wanted a drink. And her present.

She’d just taken a step towards the Chanukkiah when she heard a noise akin to a stepped-on mouse from the kitchen. Well, of course something had to go wrong and get in the way of her plans. Setting her jaw, she hurried to the kitchen, so she could get Harley out of whatever trouble she’d found herself in.

Reaching the door, she felt her eye twitch, just slightly, at the tableau in front of her. There was a small child warding off a menacing, skeleton suited intruder with an ancient stuffed toy of some description. Pamela didn’t rightly know what it was supposed to be, but it was thrust out like a tiny fuzzy sword towards Harley. And there was Harley, sack that was significantly emptier wide open just like the freezer door, with a fist full of kosher meat. Pamela recognised the packaging from when Harley brought home thick slices of premium beef for the hyenas. Apparently, they deserved the best, kosher-only meats.

Pamela sighed softly and knocked gently on the doorframe, disrupting the standoff. Both jerked violently at the interruption. The child’s eyes going wide as she recognized Pamela. Pamela sincerely hoped she didn’t scream. It’d be a little embarrassing to explain this situation to any of the Bats when they inevitably came crashing in to ‘save the day’.

“Hey there, I know it’s pretty scary to find people in your house late at night.” She spoke softly, hands forward and empty. “But I’m here in my official capacity to help out the Chanukah Skeleton.”

“The Chanukah Skeleton?” The girl tilted her head, distrustful. But at least she’d put down her sword/soft toy and didn’t seem ready to alert the authorities, for which Pamela was quietly grateful.

“Yeah, the Chanukah Skeleton. Didn’t your parents ever tell you about them?” She asked, and the girl shook her head no. “Well, you know Batwoman? And how she’s Jewish right?”

“Yeah, everyone knows that.” She said like Pamela had just asked a very dumb and obvious question, and Harley laughed softly. Which made Pamela glance at her, noticing that as she’d been talking to the girl she’d continued silently putting food in the family’s pantry.

“Okay, yeah, obviously everyone knows that.” Pamela and the girl nodded wisely at this statement, and Pamela continued in her bogus, on the fly explanation. “Well on Yom Kippur Batwoman does an extra-special communal atonement, and leaves a note and supplies for the Chanukah Skeleton so they can help improve the lives of very poor families in the community when they need it most.”

It got very, very quiet in the kitchen and Pamela wondered if she’d somehow stepped in it. It wasn’t like she knew a lot beyond what she’d picked up from living with Harley. Maybe she’d fucked up. But finally, the girl nodded solemnly, seeming to accept the excuse. Pamela breathed out.

“It would’ve been nice if you could’ve come last year too, when Bubbe was dying.” Her voice hitched slightly, before she rubbed a hand over her eyes. “But that’s okay. I guess someone else needed it more. Can I get a glass of water now?”

“Sure thing sweetie.” Pamela forced a smile, before reaching out a hand and snagging Harley's arm and dragging her after her. She didn’t stop until they were on the roof of the house a few streets over. But Harley still seemed shell-shocked.

“What the fuck was that, Harley?” She snapped, and Harley reached up to pull the mask and hat off. Her eyes were bright with tears.

“I don’t – I’m sorry, Red.” She turned and looked back at the house they’d just come from. “I just wanted to be a better version of Santa, wouldn’t be hard being better’n that fat fuck I thought. Make sure some kids had better holidays than I had. But what if I’m just making things worse?”

“Harley, love,” Pamela cupped her face in her hands, making her look up at her, “these kinds of silly existential questions are for brooding assholes like Batman. Not you. You are doing something good, even if I’d rather be home in the warm right now. And if you want you can do this again next year.”

“Really, Pam-a-lamb? You’d do this multiple years for me?”

“If you wear that little Santa outfit for me when we get home, sure.” She shrugged nonchalantly, and Harley laughed, bright and ringing. Pamela smiled indulgently.

After all, it was all worth it as long as she laughed.


End file.
